Nature hath no shame

Is there anything worse than, while in the act of getting into your car, suddenly noticing, just inches from your head, a praying mantis the size of a giant sequoia?

There is, in fact. It is finding, inches from your head, TWO praying mantises the size of a giant sequoia, sharing an intimate moment.

This happened to me recently. I wanted to yell, "No, no! This is a family neighborhood! There might be any number of impressionable little praying mantises out there watching this! Do you want to mess them up for life??"

Instead, I encouraged the amorous insects, by the use of a large stick, to get a room somewhere else, preferably one that grew leaves that could shelter them from prying eyes.

This is just further proof that our society has no shame. I realize that millions of acts like this must be occurring every day, in our parks and forests and other green spaces, judging from the sheer amount of new insects I find invading our home. But I certainly don't want to know about it. And now it has moved out into the open. If this can happen in broad daylight, right on my '98 Honda CRV (which, by the way, is a pretty innocent car; the closest it's come to an amorous adventure is bumping up against a shopping cart), is there any hope for our society? What will we see next? Praying mantis centerfolds? Crickets getting cozy right on the patio furniture?

I know one thing. The next car I get is not going to be any color remotely resembling a tree. I'm gonna get something bright and hideous, like fuchsia. Let 'em try to have their intimate moments on that.